


It's Love when you feel it too

by AlexaMondragon



Series: The One Where Hanzo is a Girl [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angry Jesse is scary, F/M, Girl!Hanzo, Hanzo D.va and Satya BFFs, Hanzo is emotionally repressed, Hanzo is smol, Jesse is BAMF, Jesse is emotionally repressed, Panic Attacks, Past Rape, Protective!Genji, light gore, more tags added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-10
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:19:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8521804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexaMondragon/pseuds/AlexaMondragon
Summary: "I love you." He deadpans. "And what do you have ta say to that?" His voice a low whisper then, but hope in his eyes are there and prominent.
"I'd say, "I'm an idiot that should've known." And then I'll proceed to kiss you." She whispers back at him. Her eyes glossy and lips pulling into a trembling smile.
"I like that idea very much." He smirks then proceeds to do so.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Jesse and Girl!Hanzo are seeing each other…no. Wait. Jesse and Hanzo actually only ever are kind to each other when the other is feeling rather lonely and itching at night. By day they’re vicious to the other. Then, just when Jesse falls for her and vice versa, she wants it to stop.

Hanzo opens the door to her room and is greeted with the broad body of the resident gunslinger infront of her. His eyes dark and grim. She looks him over and drags him in by pulling him by the collar of his ugly plaid shirt. He follows willingly.

They’ve been doing this for months now. Neither has been caught by the rest. Probably because they think that they hated the other. 

Well, they aren’t wrong. 

Every day they would be at each other’s, throwing venomous remarks and sneers. The heated glare would make even Winston cringe and hide behind his mug. Every day the two would find something that they hate about the other. Everyday Hanzo would throw vicious comment after vicious comment in his direction and he would always throw back a smartass reply to ruffle her feathers even more. They hated being in the same room with the other. They hated how similar their pasts are. They hated how they would compete just to see who has the most accurate and perfect aim. They hated how they would be forced to share a small smile to the other when the other tries to be funny. They hated stumbling into each other in the kitchen, awake and shaken from a nightmare, whenever they couldn’t sleep.

If only they could believe in the lies they tell themselves every day. 

It started because they wanted to rid of the extra pent up energy and frustration when they seemed to be itching to bed someone. They released that energy and scratched that itch with each other. They hated how good it felt. 

But they liked that they fight for control and they liked it when they would wake up sated and satisfied. 

But Hanzo didn’t want it. She was greedy. She wanted him to stay. She wanted them to stop. She liked it how he would unknowingly hold her tight and close all through the night. She liked it when his warm breathe tickles the skin on her collarbone and the nape of her neck. She liked it when he would nuzzle into her hair and she liked it when he would hold onto her possessively when she tried to move away. She liked it when she could pretend that the situation could be a bit different. 

She liked how good he was to her in the vicinity of the sheets. She liked how he would tend to her afterwards. She liked how they would share a quite silence between them. She liked it when he would trace random shapes on her bare skin when he thinks that she’s asleep. She liked that his body keeps her warm and toasty every night. She hated that she cries herself in shame when she would wake up to an empty bed the morning afterwards.

She wanted him to stay. She wanted him to hold on to her. She wanted him to keep the nightmares at bay. She wanted him to sing to her in that deep, whisky voice of his. She wanted him to hold her hand. She liked it when he would whisper in Spanish to her when he thinks that she’s sleeping, pretending that they’re endearments and words of loving nonsense. She wanted him to continue when he stopped, and proceeds to exit the room after finding his clothes. She hated feeling like a used prostitute after that. 

When Jesse came by that night, her eyes were red and swollen and when he tries to reach for her face, she turns away. Rejecting him and proceeds to tell him, “I don’t want to do this tonight. Or any other night.” She whispers. Voice hoarse and her arms tremble a little. She hears him releasing a breath and backs away. He disappears down the corridor and Hanzo closes the door with a soft click. She proceeded to climb into bed with her heart on the floor, torn and bruised and bleeding. 

She hated that she cried herself to sleep again that night. 

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,

Jesse walks back into his room, the shadows and ghosts catching up to him and he slips down to the floor when the door to his room closes. He tosses his hat across the room and rakes his flesh hand across his tangle mess of hair and exhales harshly. He inhales brokenly and runs both his hands down his face. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight. He didn’t care. 

It’s over now. He knew that the day would come. He thought he’d be ready for it and accept it without complaint. He just didn’t expect it to last so long. Too long.  
He felt sick. Like his stomach is turning and churning restlessly and a pain akin to a stab crosses in his chest before something heavy settles on it. 

His hand itches to touch her soft skin, to run it on the soft muscles and curves of her body. His lips hunger for her supple lips. But his heart aches for her. Not just her body, but her generally. His arms misses the petite figure of hers and his ears yearn to hear the thumping of her heart. He misses the scent of sakura flowers on her and the taste of her kisses. 

He misses a lot of things about her. And he knew that he couldn’t let her slip through his fingers that easily. But what is he to her…He desperately wishes to know. 

He didn’t know what the moments they had meant to her. But he does know that she enjoys when he plays with the dark silk strands of her hair. He knew she liked it when he would hold on to her tightly, she snuggles up to him every time. He knew she liked it when he speaks in Spanish, because she would always hum in acknowledgement, sometimes. He knew she liked it when he would tend to her afterwards, because she would place sweet kisses up his arms and face. 

But he hated when he had to leave. He hated leaving her afterwards. He hated that he didn’t know what to do in the mornings. He hated when she came to him for the first time and left that morning. He hated to pretend that what they had was something special. He hated that she was so sweet to him when he wakes from nightmares. He hated that she could make him putty in her hands, her small, beautiful hands. 

He stands on shaky legs and climbs onto his empty bed. He buries his face on the pillow that smells remotely like her. He grits his teeth when he felt a phantom pain on the left side of his body, like she’s holding onto him. Preventing him to fall deep into a dark abyss. 

But his tired eyes and exhausted heart compels him to sleep a long, lone, cold night. Even the nightmares left him alone. 

,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

That morning when she wakes up, she gets herself ready for the day. She showers and brushes her teeth and ties her hair in a loose bun. She would wear her blue, oversized sweater that Hana bought for her, because wearing the same button up shirt is gross, even when she told her that she wears different ones every day. And also because she loves how big and baggy it feels on her petite form. She puts on her leggings and walks out of her room, heading for the kitchen. It was still fairly early in the mornings and they did just accomplished their mission the day before, so she speculates that the rest are still sleeping. But when she walks into the cafeteria, she notices that only Symmetra is awake and is drinking tea. She takes her food and sits right next to her. 

The silence that followed was not tense, but it wasn’t nice either. Symmetra checks over the projects in her holographic screens and when she deems it perfect and is satisfied, she turns to her friend and notices the dark bags under her eyes. Her skin pale and eyes empty. She takes Hanzo’s hand in hers, her gauntlet hand gently placed on the back of her head and proceeds to pull her onto her shoulder. The small Japanese woman complies and closes her eyes. Just then Junkrat walks in and sees the two, he waves to Symmetra and opens his mouth to greet her, but she lays a finger on her lips to quite him and he playfully locks his lips. 

He takes his breakfast and leaves, Satya runs her hand up and down the woman’s arm and they sit in relative silence, with Satya comforting her friend. They didn’t like each other very much at the beginning, but when they found quite a few similarities with each other, like cleanliness and order, they became the closest friend they have to the other. They trusted each other with their pain and they support each other when the world seemed to be too much for them. Sometimes the rest of the team would find them together at the common room, watching documentaries and would always find them alone together with a table all to themselves. 

When she told her of her and McCree’s nightly rendezvous, she didn’t comment on anything except that she needs to be careful. Hanzo didn’t look much into it at the time, she wished she had listened. 

“Eat your breakfast, my friend. You need the energy.” She speaks softly. 

“Okay.” Was the only reply she gets. Symmetra finishes her tea and snags some food that Hanzo forgoes and they migrate to the common room where Hanzo drapes herself on Symmetra and she runs her fingers in Hanzo’s hair, free from its tie. An hour passed and a certain cowboy drawl was heard and she felt Hanzo tense a bit. He sounds to be heading to the cafeteria and Hanzo relaxes when he passes the common room. 

Hana comes in and sees the two women on the sofa and joins in. She lies on Symmetra’s other side and snuggles up to her. Symmetra didn’t seem to mind the extra weight and basks in the warmth. Hanzo falls asleep when Hana braids her hair and Symmetra continues with her work. The girls were interrupted when Winston’s voice came from the com, announcing that a meeting is to be start within the hour. Symmetra gently wakes her friend and tells her of the meeting. Hanzo nods in acknowledgement and stretches to wake her more. Hanzo walks back into her room to change her clothes to look a bit more professional and thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t run into a certain cowboy on her way back. 

She passes Genji on her way, though. He greets her, but she only shrugs in response.

“Sister, are you alright?” He voices out, concern lacing in his simple question.

“I am fine, brother.” She sighs out. She braces herself when it seems that he has something to say, but he only places his hand on her shoulder and squeeze it gently. She smiles a small smile at him. 

“I’ll see you at the meeting then.” He walks away after that. She breathes out a breath she’s been holding and continues on her way to her room. Things seems to be a bit better with Genji nowadays and she’s grateful for it. 

She reaches her room and proceeds to change her attire. She sees her reflection in the mirror and notes that her eyes are looking a bit well rested and her color, though she’s still pale, seems to be coming back to her. She runs her brush in her hair and ties it in a tight bun and she smoothed her button up blouse and pops the two upper button out, showing off her collarbone. She wore the leggings and she hears a knock on the door when she did a final examination on her person. She opens the door to see Hana.  
“Let’s go together?” She inquires, her smile seemed strained but her eyes sincere.

“Alright.” The door slides close with a soft hiss as she steps out and they make their way to the conference room. 

“How are you feeling, Hanzo?” Hana pipes up, her posture relax as she walks but her shoulders seemed a bit tense. Hanzo only waves off her concern. “I am doing just fine, Hana, but I do appreciate your concern.” She smiles a tired one to her and pushes the door to the conference room open. She notices that almost all the members are present. With Jesse sitting in the far back, close to the door. She purposely ignores him and heads to the farthest seat away from the man and sits down next to Tracer. Genji proceeds to sit next to McCree. Symmetra takes a vacant seat next to Hanzo and she appreciates that she blocks the image of McCree from her view. The others came in shortly after and Winston clears his throat. 

“Alright, as we know, Talon is receiving a sum amount of money from an unknown source. While gathering Intel, we noticed that it’s one of the ambassador of Australia that seems to be popping up from time to time a few hours after Talon activity is thwarted by us. We dug in a bit deeper and we found out that he’s also been smuggling illegal weapons into the states. Now to the mission, I need a field volunteer. A girl mostly, because...” He was cut off when McCree pipes up.

“Y’re sending one of our ladies fer a honeypot mission, is that it, Winston?” He voice sounds grave and his eyes murderous, he crosses his arms on his chest, making his muscles bulge under the fabric of his white button up shirt and Hanzo tries hard to not look at his direction. 

Winston heaves a heavy sigh, “Yes. I’m afraid so, McCree. That’s why I want to know if either one of you ladies are willing to go. Because I don’t want to put either of you under pressure of being in that situation without your consent.” He looks to the women, Angela wanted to volunteer, but someone piped up that she’s too easy to read, which she puffs up, looking annoyed and ruffled. It’s adorable to look at.

Mei immediately shakes her head and she hears Zarya breathes a breath of relief. Hana is too young. Zarya is too into Mei to agree. Tracer can’t because she’s the get-away driver. When Symmetra raises her hand, Junkrat immediately shoves the idea down the drain, saying he will break the fucker’s balls if he touches her. She flushes a deep red after that. Which leaves Hanzo. Winston looks at her with pleading eyes and she stands.

“I will take it.” Her voice strong and no arguments were given and Winston nods in approval. 

“Be ready by tomorrow afternoon at 3 o’clock, we’ll leave at that time and we estimate to reach Paris in an hour before the gala, by then we’ll have finished the fake invitation and granting you access.” He finishes the meeting then and everyone leaves.

She pass by McCree without looking at him, which means that she’s oblivious to the silent rage showing on his face. He stands up when the rest of the team are gone and tries to catch up with Hanzo. He sees her walking briskly back to her room and he caught her wrist in a bruising grip, which made her yelp a bit so he loosens it a bit.  
She turns around to face him, eyes furious and her lips are pulled back to show her glinting white teeth. He gives her his best glare and doesn’t let her go when she tries to pull away from him. He keeps the eye contact with her until she gives a harsh huff and rolls her eyes in annoyance.

“What is it that you want, McCree?” She hisses. 

“I don’t want ya goin’ on this mission. ‘ts dangerous, Shimada.” His voice is low and angry, a deep growl could be heard when he spat her family name. 

She bristles, “Look, cowboy, I am not your mistress and you are not my superior. I can very well do whatever I want and I am taking this mission.” She growls and yanks her arm away, but he grabs her shoulders. They feel so cold under his hand. 

“This ‘ere is a suicide mission. Do ya even know what men like tha’ do to women?!” He seethes. 

“I can very well take care of myself, cowman. I am not stupid, McCree.” She spat. 

He growls in frustration and lets her go. “Ya know what? Fine. Whatever. Do whatever the Hell ya want, Shimada!” He stomps away angrily. Muttering curses in both English and Spanish. She spun around and continues with her journey back to her room. Once she reached there, she crumples to the floor. The warmth of his hand on her still lingers on her wrist and shoulder. The tears stream down her face when she could still see how he looks at her with anger and disgust. She sobs and hides her face in her hands. Her shoulders shook as the tremors run through her body, making her feel tired and sleepy. She didn’t bother to bathe and clean herself, she just climbs into bed and promptly fell asleep. 

When she wakes up again, the sun was already setting and her stomach growls in hunger. She rises up and looks around her room. Nothing seems to be changed and her button up is rumpled and some of the buttons have popped open when she was asleep. She groans when her stomach summersaulted in hunger and she drags herself out of bed. She changes attire and runs her hand in her hair to hopefully make it look at least presentable. She walks to the cafeteria and was greeted with a hug from Hana and a pat on the cheek from Symmetra. She walks to get her dinner and sits with them at their table. They ate in relative silence, the air heavy around them. 

“You two shouldn’t worry for me. I’ll be fine.” She tells them when they lounge in the common room again. Hana on her side, her arms wrapping around her middle and Symmetra’s head on her shoulder.

“We know. It’s just…this is the first time that I get to see this. I know how honeypot missions are supposed to go, I just can’t wrap it around my head that it’s going to be you trying to seduce some other guy.” She admits quietly. 

“What do you mean by ‘other guy’?” She inquires. 

Hana looks at her like she’s grown horns and scales and proceeds with a small voice, “Oh, I thought you were with cowboy…” She trails off when she sees the hurt in her eyes.  
Hana’s eyes widen a bit and Hanzo asks quietly, “Why did you think that?” 

“Because of the way he looks at you all the time, when you weren’t looking.” Her voice was small and her eyes are taking on a look of sympathy. When Hanzo stays quite, she continues, “He always looks at you like you were the greatest thing in the world. He always keeps leftover food for you whenever you skipped lunch or breakfast. He always restock your favourite green tea and he always buy store bought sushi for you and keeps them in the fridge. He always put your name on it. He warns us and Winston off when he tries to pry answers from the mission you just finished and when we wanted to just bug you. He misses you so much when you go away on long missions.” She finishes with a quiver in her voice and Hanzo looks at her, expecting more. 

And Hana gives her more. “He even has that weird plushie of that stupid looking turnip with octopus legs on it. He brings it along every mission he goes to. I think he won it when we were in Hanamura.” 

Hanzo chokes back a laugh then and she realizes that both her cheeks are wet. 

“He deserves better.” She whispers out brokenly. 

Both Symmetra and Hana hug her close as she lets out tiny sobs and hiccups. They brought her to her room and Symmetra left because she has an appointment with Angela that evening. It’s something regarding her health, she keeps throwing up in the mornings. Hanzo waves goodbye and Hana waits for her on the bed. Hanzo climbs up the bed and Hana brings her close to her, hugging her as they lie down in Hanzo’s bed. They slept that night, with Hanzo only waking up to cry and Hana soothes her every time. 

That morning when she wakes up, Hana was still sleeping soundly. Hanzo lets her. She bathes and dresses and makes her way to the cafeteria. When she arrives there, it’s mostly empty. Zarya was already there, nursing a coffee and tablet infront of her. Probably catching some news if the voice of some reporters are anything to go by. She walks to the counter and select the few food serving for breakfast and went to her table. She sat in silence and began eating. Not soon after, Winston came in and he grabs a mug of coffee and sits next to her. 

“I have the invitations ready and you just need to get ready and make up a story for yourself. Half of the team will be coming, but they’ll be outside the building. I wish you good luck on this mission, and hopefully we’ll be getting what we expect of.” 

Hanzo nods her head, and Winston leaves her. She finishes breakfast and goes to her room to pick a dress. She finds a nice long, red dress and tries it on, it still serves its purpose in making her curves more pronounce and showing a bit more skin, the back is cut low, showing her soft, pale skin and stopping just right on the small of her back. Her scars are small and pale, but it can be hidden with concealer. The front was hold by the sheer power of her breast and a thin strip of ribbon around her slender neck. She could wear really long gloves to hide her tattoo, hoping that they won’t recognize her. She could borrow some of Symmetra’s huge necklaces and ruby earrings for the needed accessories. She could also ask for Hana to do her makeup. Hopefully it’s just light makeup. 

She hears someone knocking on the door and answers it, Genji was standing there. 

“Can you really do this again, Hanzo?” He cuts to the point. 

Hanzo breathes a long sigh before nodding her head. 

“So you know what I’ll have to say then.” He states, voice in concern and she could only imagine the deep worry lines on his forehead. 

“I will be fine, brother. It’s not like I haven’t done this before.” She speaks, voice lace in exhaustion and eyes seeming slightly annoyed. Genji exhales loudly and quite suddenly, he catches her in a surprise hug. “I know, but it doesn’t make me worry less.” 

She hesitantly wraps her arms around him and rests her cheek on his shoulder. They stayed like that in what seems like forever and he slowly lets her go. She smiles a reassuring smile at him and he leaves with a slight bow. 

She goes back into packing and at that moment Hana wakes up groggily. Her hair a mess of tangles and her eyes droopy. She tells Hana of her plan of putting makeup on her and Hana grins, “I’ll make you the freaking belle of the ball!!” She fist pumps and exits her room in search of late breakfast. She takes off the dress and decides that a little run around the compound wouldn’t hurt. She dresses on her sports bra and shorts and ties her hair in a high pony tail, she laces up her running shoes, forgoing using her boots. McCree was surprised to find that she has legs after all and not prosthetics, she huffs a silent laugh at the memory. She got to the tracks and starts a slow jog around the perimeter. Trying to clear her head from the upcoming mission and when sweat starts to fall from the back of her neck does she stops. 

She isn’t afraid of missions like these. Because back when she was still in the clan, they would give her missions such as these to bring down a rival clan. She always accepts them without a fight, and usually it went as planned. But some missions went off the rail, and usually, she’d end up with stitches on her and a bruised pride. When that happens, Genji would always come and visit her in the medical bay, and whenever she’d cried and tell him the pain hurts, he would lie down next to her and held on to her all night long. After she healed, they would send her to do it again. But she improves after a long while. The phantom pain of being taken unwillingly lingers on her and when every time she feels it, the tears weren’t far behind. Some nights she would stay awake, body shaking and mind in a puddle. The sudden panic attack would send her reeling into the darkness of her imaginations and sometimes, she claims to see the faces of the men that hurt her in the dark corners of her bedroom. 

She shakes her head to rid of these thoughts and makes her way to the showers. She stops by her room to grab a change of clothing and toiletries and proceeds. After the refreshing shower, she quickly goes to her room to pack a few clothes.

When that was done, she takes a short nap before they head off for the mission. 

She wakes up a few hours later and looks to the clock on her bedside table. It was only two hours before they depart. She went to Hana’s room, overnight bag in hand, and knocks on her door. Hana opens it and smiles up at her, “Hold on! I’m just about ready.” She rushes back in and a few minutes later, she came out with her suitcase. They went to the hangar to deposit their luggage. When they arrive, a few of the team members are already loading up their gear and luggage’s as well. They see Winston, Junkrat, Roadhog and Angela in the hangar, and not even ten minutes in, McCree walks in with his duffel bag in hand and Hanzo purposely ignores him. Her attention on Hana and the others.  
They ate their lunch hastily and loaded up into their transport. On the flight there, they took light naps. Hanzo sleeps on Hana’s lap and Hana leans on Angela’s shoulder. McCree watches Hanzo’s sleeping face, noticing that she looks tired and troubled in her sleep. 

It hurt him something fierce when he stormed away the other day after yelling at her. Seeing her eyes wide with hurt, even if it’s only for a few milliseconds. After he stormed off, he went to the gym to blow off some steam. He punches his anger and frustration out and promptly tears a punching bag with a final blow from his prosthetic. 

He cleaned up the mess after that, but his heart felt an ache so unfamiliar to him that he just kneels on the floor of the gym. His arms and upper body sore. His muscles throbbing under his skin and sweats came out like bullets. He was so angry at her. Angry because she wanted to take such a risky mission. He’s seen women changed when a honeypot mission goes wrong back in his Deadlock days. He’s heard all the pain inflicted on those women and he shudders thinking that Hanzo has done these types of missions before.  
If she had, did she went through what those women went through too? If she did, he couldn’t imagine the fear and panic of doing it again. Maybe he wasn’t angry at her generally, maybe he was angry at the people who forced her to do such a thing. He was burning in rage the moment the Shimada clan came to his mind. He stands and picked up another punching bag to replace the busted one and continues to beat his anger out. If they did send her to these kind of mission, then she must’ve known the dangers of it and can avoid it naturally. She must’ve known the consequences too. He couldn’t imagine a young Hanzo being forced into something she didn’t want. He couldn’t imagine the very first time she was taken forcefully. His blood boiled and he increased his strength in punching the bag. He couldn’t imagine her please to stop, her eyes wide with fear and her voice raw from screaming. 

He couldn’t imagine the tears spilt after that, the nights of creeping nightmare and paranoia that they’re everywhere. 

That hit the last straw on Jesse’s nerve and he screams out in anger when he delivers the final punch on the punching bag, making it tear and spill the sands to the floor. He breathes through his nostrils, trying to calm his anger and looks to his bleeding knuckle. He wipes it on his black sweatpants and doesn’t even register the sting.  
He couldn’t live with himself if he let Hanzo go through that again. But if it does, he’ll be sure to run to her if she needed it. 

They arrived in Paris an hour after Hanzo wakes up. She was groggy and nauseous after the plane ride, steps dangerously wavering. Hana stays close to Hanzo and they reach their hideout a few minutes later by car. 

Immediately after they arrive, their hideout is an abandoned manor that they cleaned and restored months before, acting like a small refuge for them, it being around a kilometre from their destination, she gets herself ready. She shares room with Satya and Hana. She showers and gets her dress on, the hem of the long dress was shyly brushing on the floor, her hair is loose, draping over her shoulder where she can hide the bit of the dragon tattoo on her. She was given long gloves to conceal the majority of the dragon and a few small red flower accessories are pinned in her hair. Hana grabs her around her arms and drags her to the vanity mirror in the room.

“Now, I’m just going to apply really light make up on you. Because girl, you are already beautiful as Hell.” She gushes. She sets up her make up on the small table and adds a darker eye liner, making them look sharper, but not thick. She applies a little blush on her, her sharp cheekbones looking soft in the light. Her red lipstick is applied with a couple of layers, gloss came last. Hana applies eye shadow, red and glittering, making her dark eyes glint. She applies concealer on the few scars on her back and when she deems finished, she pulls her to a full length mirror. Hanzo stands there, admiring the woman staring back at her. She runs her gloved fingers on her cheek and bottom lip. Satya walks in, gasping as she sees her friend. She smiles and walks behind her, gently placing a necklace around her slender neck. The rubies twinkle teasingly and shine in the light, and Satya forgoes the ruby earrings. 

“Give us a little twirl, Hanzo.” Satya grins when she admires how the dress hugs her breast, making them look plump and full, her curves were shown and her bare back looked enticing, her spine curved in a delicate arch and her hips are sin when she would move them side to side. Her hair coming down in soft ringlets, the dark color making it look like a waterfall of silk and it shines in the light of the room. She gently grabs Hanzo’s face in her hands, looking at her with worry in her eyes.

“Please be careful, my friend.” She advices, her voice laced with worry. 

“I will. Plus I have a small gun on me.” She shows the strapped gun on her thigh and Satya smiles, satisfied that her friend at least has a bit of protection on her. 

“Now, let’s get you to the ball!” Hana fist pumps. Her enthusiasm makes Hanzo giggle a bit, the bit of tension on her shoulders lifting. Hanzo grabs her small red purse and wears her red stiletto shoes and follows them as they make their way downstairs to the rest of the team. 

The others gather in the large living room, the fireplace lit, giving the room a warm glow. Winston, Tracer and Angela setting up their equipment in the room. Jesse cleaning and oiling Peacekeeper, he’s sitting on a sofa closer to the fireplace. Three of them are going to be outside the building near the gala, they’ll be hiding in a van just a few yards away from the building Hanzo will be in. They used Hana’s fame to rent the latest sports car for Hanzo to drive to the party. Those three are Tracer, Angela and Jesse.  
Just as Jesse finishes cleaning Peacekeeper, someone cleared their throat at the entrance to the living room. Jesse hears a soft gasp from Angela and he sees nearly everyone looking in one direction. He turns and what he sees nearly made his heart jump out of his chest. His eyes widen and suddenly everything in the room blurs around his vision. He only sees her. Standing in the doorway with her small, almost shy smile, her gaze to the floor, the blush on her cheeks intensifying. He makes a stand to go to her, but the serape that was once on his lap fell to the floor, covering his feet and makes him face plants on the carpet. He groans when the others giggle and snorts at his general direction. He was helped by Winston and he comments on how well Hanzo looks.

“It is nothing, Winst-“She is cut off when Jesse exclaims in a dreamy voice.

“Hell, I bet the whole party would freeze just ta look at her.” He muses out loud. His brain to mouth filter failing him and he blushes furiously when every occupant in the room turns to look at him. Their looks amused and Angela giggles behind her hand. Hanzo blushes a beet red, but her eyes aren’t looking at Jesse. 

“Well, let it be known, that I’ve never thought that I’d see the day the regal dragon is in a dress and make up.” Satya muses behind Hanzo, her hand on her shoulder. Supporting her. Hanzo lightly slaps her shoulder.

“Are we ready to go?” She asks. Jesse finally takes his eyes off her and coughs in his hand. Feigning disinterest as he passes her by. Catching whiff of her perfume that nearly made his knees buckle under him and when he turns around to call for Tracer, he sees her exposed back and resists the urge to grab his serape and cover her up. The concealer covered every little scar that he kissed and licked, making him scowl when he imagines the hungry stares at her exposed flesh with dark intent in their gaze. He snarls quietly and stomps outside, letting the cold air cool down his boiling blood under his skin.

They gather into the car and Hanzo climbs into hers. 

They drive to the gala, the others a few metres behind her sports car. When she stops in front of the building, they quickly change lanes and they hide the van in the alley way a few blocks away from the five star hotel. The camera that hides in the flower pin in her hair activates and the crew in the van could see the extravagant entrance. 

“Oooh, spiffy.” Jesse mutters under his breath. Tracer nods along.

“Ehh, not so bad.” Hana pipes in their comm link.

“I’ve seen Vishkar thrown an impressive gala.” Satya pops in. Tracer and Jesse roll their eyes.

“Rich people.” They both deadpan. 

They hushed when Hanzo produces her fake invitation and name and she enters with her chin held high. 

Until D.va crackles in. “Wait, does that means Hanzo isn’t wearing a bra?!?!?!”

TBC…


	2. Chapter 2

The gala is just like all the thousands of gala that she’s been in, grand, extravagant, a waste of her time when she has to kill her targets and making a hasty run. But the only thing that appeals to her are the sense of warmth in the atmosphere and the soft orange glow of the chandelier above her head. Sending gleam of orange and reflects light off every direction. The fragrance of hundreds of flowery perfume wafts into her nose, tickling her senses to make her sneeze. Almost.

She accepts the many offers to dance. Retracing her steps from when she learned them in her younger years. Her dance partners are kind enough to get her drinks, but she declines after the third glass. It’s not that she couldn’t hold her liquor, it’s just that she’s a bit paranoid of accepting too many drinks.

“How are you doing, Hanzo dear?” Tracer’s voice pops in. She smiles when she declined another dance request. She hums her answer, indicating that she’s indeed fine.

“Alright, the target just arrived six minutes ago and is now dancing. I need you to lure him to you. Think you can do that, dear?”

She looks around the dance floor and sees her target. A man around his forties dancing with his partner.

“I know I can.” She disguise her uneasiness in a self-assured voice and she walks to the bar.

“Two glass of whiskey, please.” She smiles softly at the young bartender and he smiles politely back. When he comes back, he hands her the drinks and she turns her attention to the ambassador. She watches him with a predatory gaze and when he stops dancing, he whirls around. Likely feeling her eyes on him. When his gaze catches hers, she smiles seductively and looks away as if in embarrassment. She can feel his eyes running up and down her body and she prides in herself when she felt a soft touch to her bare shoulder.

  
She turns as if in surprise and he chuckles. He doesn’t look that unappealing as she thought he would be up close. He possesses a nice set of chiselled jaws, his eyes a dark ember and his hair is glistening a dark brown, with a few strands of white, in the light. He must be quite the catch when he was younger. She could see the crow’s feet at the edges of his eyes, appeared after smiling one too many times. She caught whiff of the expensive cologne he’s sporting and she smiles predatory like. Her prey easily walks into her trap.

“Well never have I ever seen such an exotic beauty in such a dreary place before.” He rumbles, voice deep and smooth, akin to the whiskey in her hand.

“Well it sure seems like you have a keen eye for rare jewels. It’s either that or you’re too blind to see the beauty in everything.” She bites back, her eyes glinting dangerously as he gulps in discomposure, irritation fleeting in his gaze. She leans on the bar, resting her arm under her breasts, making them look fit to burst, and she could see his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

“Well, I don’t know about that, but I could see that you seem to be lacking a partner. Care to dance?” He offers.

“Maybe after this drink?” She asks innocently, eyelashes batting sweetly, teasingly. She hands him the glass in her hand and takes the one on the bar. She puckered her lips to the glass and she could see his eyes roaming to her glistening, blood red lips. He hastily downs his drink and again, offers his hand. She delicately places the glass back on the bar and accepts the hand, pulling her to the dance floor.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

“Whoah. What a reel in. Feisty one, isn’t she?” Tracer breathes in awe, temporarily closing the comm link to her to whistle low and long, captivated.

  
Jesse scowls and grunts his reply. Mood sour and face no farther from the latter. His anger seeming to increase when the bastard touched her shoulder without seeming shy or ashamed. Thinking that the asshole could charm anyone if he just throws his smug smile that shows his pearly white teeth that Jesse would like to punch off his smug bastardy face. He would definitely like it if he was included in the interrogation room playing bad cop. His ire grows when he wraps his arm around her waist and begins to waltz her around on the dance floor. He could dance like that too. He just has a tendency to make his feet acquainted with his partner’s feet.

Tracer looks over at Angela to see her looking at Jesse with sympathy in her eyes. Seeing her old friend in distress and boiling in anger hurts her. But whatever is going on between him and Hanzo are none of her business. If only he could confess to her already! This is ridiculous! They are both adults for heaven’s sake!!

The day when he came to talk to her about his ‘problem’, as he calls it, she just looks at him incredulously and told him to just tell her how he feels. He proceeds to look at her like she’s finally lost her marbles and stops coming to her for advices.

She seems him silently seething when the man leans down and whispers something in her ear making Hanzo blush prettily and giggle. She sighs, exasperated, and then Hanzo drags her prey by his sleeves to the elevator. Show time.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

By the time they got to his room, he’s already removing his tie and jacket. He follows her as she saunters off to his room, throwing him a wink when she turns to look at him over her shoulder. She quickly fishes the small sleep dart out of her purse and turns around, hiding the dart behind her when he comes into the room. His gaze roaming on her body in obvious hunger. She lowers herself on the plush bed and he runs his fingers in her hair and slender neck, slightly pulling at her necklace.

“Such a beautiful face, on such a wonderful body.” He whispers in awe. His pointer lightly tracing her delicate collarbone and gently presses it, making her inhale sharply.  
“But such beauty hides thorns so sharp.” He grits behind his teeth. Eyes scowling and the grip on her neck tightening. Her panic rising but she doesn’t show it as she gasps deliciously, hoping to turn his attention to a more apposite terms.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” She murmurs, her eyes half closed as she hopes to look inviting. The hold on the dart tight as she grips it with dear life.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Darling.” She hates that the word sounded wrong and revolting in her ears.

Using the surprising strength he possesses, he quickly spins her around and presses her face to the mattress. In her panic she tries to overthrow the bastard and swiftly kicks him in the shin, and when his stance wavers a bit, she quickly release her arm that’s trapped under her and stabs the dart onto his thigh. When he backs away, she quickly scrambles to stand upright and readies herself in her fighting stance.

“Oooh, a prissy little bitch, aren’t you?” He seethes, still standing on his feet. She doesn’t waver from her stance and her eyes sharp, glaring daggers at him. He pulls the sleep dart out of his thigh and her eyes widen when he doesn’t seem to be getting sleepy.

“Nice try, dear, but I have grown pretty immune to this.” He looks at her with evident rage in his gaze and she steels her resolve in knocking the guy out instead. He rushes to her and she avoids his attack easily by throwing herself out of his line of attack. She lands punches and kicks to his person, but he doesn’t seem to waver in her attacks. Seeming to still go strong in his advances and tries to overturn her by sheer force of brute strength, avoiding his grabby hands and grabbing every near object to be used as a weapon and when she remembered her gun, she makes a quick grab for it.

He sees the gun she points at him, but he was quicker. He smacks her hand with the gun away and quickly grabs it in his other hand. She drops to the ground and swipe her leg under him, making him fall, gun clattering behind him. She quickly makes a grab for it, but he caught her ankle and proceeds to pull her down to the floor with him.

She yelps in pain when the sharp corner of the drawer struck to the side of her body and she clutches it tightly. She inhales sharply when he pulls her by the hair and throws her to the bed. He grabs her ankle and twists it excruciatingly until an audible crack is heard, he pushes her head to the mattress to muffle her screams of agony. The tears falling freely now that the pain on her person intensifies. Her breath coming out in pants as her lungs fight to bring in air.

“Now let’s see if you could scream like that when I’m done with you.” His sinister smile makes her spine shiver in a bad way and her breathes coming out in pants as the panic attack starts. The darkness in the corner of her eyes intensifies when she hears her dress being ripped from her body, only the lower half of her is exposed to this man’s filthy gaze. He grabs his tie and proceeds to tie her arms together to the bedframe. His hands roaming her body as she tries move away from his disgusting touches. She tries desperately to kick him off with her good leg, but he only grabs that and twists it too, the jolt of pain runs like electricity through her leg and spreading her entire person. Her nerves felt like fire under her skin. Her screams muffled by his lips when he forced his mouth onto hers.

“Now be a good girl and don’t make this any harder. I want this to go as smoothly as it can, darling.” He sneers. She bites onto his bottom lip until it bleeds and he backhands her across her face. A satisfying purple bruise blooming on her left cheek and he smiles in pleasure.

Her tears falling uncontrollably by then. She pulls herself away when his hands starts to roam higher to her chest and she could feel his sadistic smile when he buries his face in the crook of her neck.

 _No no no no no no no no no no, please dear God, no!_ She silently pleads. Her chocked cries filling the room when he starts kissing down her throat to her chest and proceeds down her stomach. She wanted so badly for it to stop. Her panicked mind didn’t help when the memory of previous attacks were brought to the forefront of her mind. Her chest constricted and her heart twisted excruciatingly in her chest when the faces of her past perpetrators make themselves known in the forefront of her mind.

The multiple hands wandering on her person, her silent please falling onto deaf ears and her father’s cold stare as she fails another mission. She couldn’t move when his hands tries to pry her legs apart, her underwear being the only garment covering her womanhood from his repulsive gaze, but her anger forces her appendages glued together. That anger brought the dragons forth. Making her feel their rage under her skin. They want so desperately to be released upon this vile man, but she is afraid that the small space would make the building topple on top of her if they destroyed half the building.

She shuts her eyes tightly when he forcefully and successfully pries her legs apart. Her chocked sobbing makes him chuckle darkly. Just when she was about to bite the bastard’s ear off when he came in close range again, the man was very suddenly off of her. His screams instantly dies in his throat, coming out in gasps as he chokes on his spit, when a couple sounds of bones breaking fills her ears did she open her eyes, just to see McCree staring with murder intent in his gaze. His jaw clenched tight and his breathing erratic and chest trying to pull in deep breaths of air.

His grip on his revolver tight and she could see that his knuckle is bleeding and shaking from suppressed wrath. He brings the revolver the man’s thigh and pulls the trigger without breaking eye contact with the spineless snake. The bastard’s screams choked when Jesse’s metal hand tightens around his throat. His hands seems to be hanging limply on his side, the wrists in an odd angle as Jesse keeps his hold on the man’s throat. Chunks and bits of his meat lay to waste on the sheets near Hanzo’s legs. Droplets of blood sprinkled on her thighs and the lower half of her stomach. She could see the gaping hole on his thigh and the bits of meat clinging to the bones that’s poking out of the wound, his blood vessel spraying an endless amount of blood as they try to transfer the fluid to the nearly separated limb. The little stretch of skin and muscle on his inner thigh still cling to whatever anchor they can find on his shattered bones, making the leg still on a desperate hold on his person. Jesse then knocks the man out using the butt of his revolver and he falls limply to the floor. Jesse spits on the man, glad that he’s out cold. If not Jesse would’ve put another bullet through his other leg.

He turns to Hanzo and his eyes didn’t lose the blazing fire in them when he sees the tears that continues to flow from her red rimmed eyes. The black eyeliner now a faint trace on her cheeks. He drops his beloved Peacekeeper to the floor carelessly and with both of his hands free, proceeds to untie her. She brings her quaking hands to her chest and when Jesse backs away to give her space, she throws her arms around him. Her crying intensifies when he tries to soothe her. Her sobs and wails muffled in his chest and he wraps his arms tight around her.

“Sssshhhhh, ssssshhhh, darlin’. I’m right here. I’m right here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” His voices cracks a bit, but he stays strong for her when all he wanted was to scream and yell in frustration and fury. He rocks them back and forth, tucking her face away from the gore behind him and making her hear his voice and only his, when Angela and Lena came into the room, gasping at the horror in front of them. He turns to look at them, telling them with his eyes that they need to leave them for a while. When Angela wants to speak up, he glares murderously at her, a low growl deep from his chest coming out his throat, and she glares back, knowing that he’s in trouble back at base, but right now he doesn’t give a rat’s ass.

She leaves the room, pulling Tracer along and she closes the door as an added thought. He brings his focus back to soothing the trembling, broken dragon in his arms to try and give her the best comfort that he could provide. He removes himself and she whimpers when she thought he was leaving. Making her cry the whole lot harder.

“Don’t, please, p-please, don’t. No. Don’t-don’t g-g-go, please.” She brokenly pleads, his heart stinging in his chest. Twisting and restricting it from air. Making him choke in his gullet, the tears in the corner of his eyes threatening to spill any second, but he holds them back for her. For her.

“I ain’t goin’ nowhere, I promise. I promise.” He whispers to her, his lips at her temple and her fingers trembling on the collar of his shirt. He continues with that, making it sound like a mantra to her. He removes his bloodied shirt and wraps it around her trembling shoulders. She takes hold of them and grips it tightly in her hands, making her knuckles turn white. Her soft sobbing not stopping when he lifts her slowly and gently and places her between his spread out legs. His long appendages acting like a shield around her and his arms wrap around her in a fierce and protective hug.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m here. ‘m not goin’ nowhere. You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe.” He rocks them back and forth, his mantra never ceasing. His strong presence helping her bring out from the hazy memories of her past and she relaxes her breathing. Her choked sob seeming to stop slowly and he breathes in deep. “Follow me. Breathe in deep like me. Do what I do.” He instructs softly, his hand on her back acting as an anchor to bring her back to the present. She follows his instructions and the darkness that clouds around in her eyes seems to disappear as she regains consciousness to the current time.

“Y’re doin’ so good, Darlin’. That’s it. Come back ta me. I’m right here.” He breathes a little easier when she blinks slowly, but rapidly. Her hold on him not as tight as she calms down bit by bit.

“J-Jesse…” She whispers out. Voice raw and throat damaged from the screaming.

“There she is.” The relieved smile is evident in his voice even when she couldn’t see his face at the moment. She looks around the room as if she finally notices everything and she hisses when she tries to move her legs, her ankles still in their twisted state.

“Yeah, I advise ya don’t wanna walk around fer a while yet.” He murmurs, burying his face in her messed up hair. The strands tickling his nose. She pushes herself away from him to see his face.

“Jesse?” She asks, voice in pure confusement. It’s felt like she just noticed that he’s here, in the vicinity of this room and holding on to her. She looks down and sees that she’s wearing his shirt and lightly pulls at the collar.

“Yea, I like that name too, Darlin’.” His gruff drawl made her warmer and safer somehow, but her mind tries to catch up what just happened in the past hour. Her target was in range of attack, he surprise her with his strength and speed, and then she tried to overthrow him and then he…he…he…

Her body shudders violently and Jesse tucks her face in the crook of his neck. “Now don’t go all prickly wit’ me now, Darlin’. I just gotc’ha back. Stay wit’ me now.” He murmurs to her ear and she lets out an audible exhale.

“Jesse…” She breathes out. Tasting the name on her tongue and liking how familiar it felt. Like warm whiskey and the tang of cigar smoke. The name making her focus in the present and his hold keeping away the creeping darkness in the corner of her vision.

“Jesse.” She tries again, the name rolling off her tongue like honey and his spine shivers at her breathy tone.

“Say it again, Darlin’.” He urges gently, his nose buried in her hair. One of his hand running gently on the purple bruise on her cheek. His eyes scowl and he breathes deeply to soothe the anger that wants to erupt.

“Jesse.” She snuggles to his bare chest and breathes in deep of the earthy, cigarillo smell that became so familiar to her. She runs her fingers lightly on the hair that dusts on his light caramel skin and she smiles a very timid smile when the curly hair loops around her fingers. The strong thump of his heart under her ear acts like a lullaby that makes her own synchronize with the beat. The air that he inhales makes his chest rise and fall and she nearly purrs when he rumbles a deep soothing sound. The slow atmosphere around them makes her eyes droopy and she leisurely closes them when she feels the safety of his strong arms wrapped around her.

ooooOOOOooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

Jesse sighs in relief when it seems that Hanzo has fallen asleep, her posture relaxed and her breathing deep and slow. His hold on her, however, is tight still. He couldn’t dare to move, lest that pile of shit suddenly turns into fucking Reaper 2.0, he’s not taking any risks. He whistles a shrill hoot, signalling that the other two women can come in. Angela walks up to the two occupants on bed, her expression grim as she checks over Hanzo.

“You really did a number on the bloke, love. Christ, he’s still breathin’!” Tracer exclaims, her usually chirpy tone low and the slightest quiver could be heard.

“He better be. Winston still needs ‘im for interrogation.” He grunts from the bed, his grip on Hanzo lessening to let Angela check her bruises.

“Both of her ankles are twisted badly. Her bruises can heal within the week and her hip is badly damaged by the impact on the drawer. She needs rest for a few weeks, since she won’t be able to walk I need to provide her with a wheelchair.” Angela mumbles mostly to herself. She tucks Hanzo’s hair behind her ear and her eyes look sympathetic, almost like she could see all the pain inflicted on Hanzo in her younger years.

“We need to leave. Immediately.” Angela cuts straight to the point and Tracer nods. Setting up the teleporter and radioing Satya to activate the other from their hideout. Angela and Tracer together carries the unconscious man through it and they transport back to the base. Jesse carries Hanzo and went with them. He stops to pick up his revolver, which meant having to squat down to the mess on the floor and picks up Peacekeeper. The handle already covered in the warm blood and pieces of meat stuck to the mouth of the revolver. He needs to clean it again later. He stands up again and went through the portal. Tracer comes back out and she sets a small detonation bomb on the floor. She zips out of the room and down the floors and quickly out the hotel and she takes the van back to their hideout.

The moment they came through the portal, Jesse takes Hanzo to her room and Mercy sets the man onto the cold metal operating table. Trying to keep him alive and conscious. But they knew that they need to rid of the man as soon as they got what they came for. Now you see, this is the kind of thing Blackwatch agents do. They’re good with these kinds of missions and the previous bodies that they have to dispose of was never found and even when it was found, they could never identify the body, unless they run dental tests. That’s why Blackwatch usually burns every evidence.

Jesse sets her gently on the bed and covers her with the blankets that was suspiciously folded on the end of the bed. He very carefully takes off the bloodied shirt and will have to burn it later. He wraps the blanket around her securely and leaves for the washroom. He showers quickly in her room's bathroom and uses the small towel there to wrap it around his waist. He takes Peacekeeper from its perch on the sink and makes his way out. And when he deems that Hanzo is safe and content, quickly goes to grab an extra shirt from his room. When he was passing through the hall to get to his room, which is a room away from Hanzo’s, he sees Satya and Hana quickly making their way to Hanzo.

He holds up an arm to stop them, “Whooah, hold your horses. Hanzo is sleepin’ right now. I don’ want y’all to fuss around her like a mother hen, and baby chick,” Hana sticks her tongue out at him and huffs indignantly. “I know y’all wanna see how’s she’s fairin’, but that can wait ‘till she wakes up.” He concludes.

“We know. We won’t wake her, Papa bear. We just want to take a peek to see what that bastard did to her.” Hana folds her arms on her chest and a determination that burns in her eyes, most likely not wanting to back down from seeing her friend. Satya nods along.

“Language lil’ lady.” Jesse scolds softly. Hana sniffs, turning her nose up into the air.

“We will not wake her just to pester on her. We are better than that.” Her eyes gleams of challenge if he wants to stop her from continuing with her plan.  
Jesse huffs in exasperation. “Alright. Alright. Just…keep y’re voices down.”

Hana snorts. “Yes, Papa bear. And go put on a shirt. You could choke someone with the amount of hair falling from that.” She points to his hairy chest and he playfully covers his front with both his hands, playing innocent virgin. Hana giggles and runs pass him.

Satya eyes Jesse with her sharp gaze and nods her head. “Thank you. For looking after her.” With that she passes the cowboy and makes her way to Hanzo. Jesse mumbles quietly but she still catches it.

“I always will, Sym.” He proceeds to his room. He’s got a bastard whose teeth he still wants to knock out.

TBC…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeyyy, sorry this chapter seems to cut short, because I still have other story ideas I’m brewing. Hope you like this chapter. Comments makes me happy.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey fellas, 
> 
> So sorry I've M.I.A for a long while. I've hit rock bottom because of a lot of things, but I promise you that I haven't forget any one of the stories I've made. Updates will be irregular, but I'm trying. Thank you for the kudos and patience.

Hanzo woke up a few hours later. Her head groggy and spinning. Her entire body felt like on fire as she tries to sit up. Her ankles throb as a familiar pain makes its way up her spine. She tries to move her legs, wiggling her toes first. She feels them move and wiggle and sighs in relief when she realizes her lower limbs are still working. She moves her arms and stretches as far as she gets. She opens her eyes to a dark room. She turns her head left to right and sees Satya sleeping on an uncomfortable looking armchair. Her hair tied back and when Hanzo tries to sit up, she notices that Hana is a few inches away from her on the king size bed.

She tries to remember what happened on the mission, but her head throbs when everything comes back in flashes and blur. She gives up trying to sit up, staring at the ceiling while she tries to relax her mind to let the memory flow. But nothing seems to resurface.

All she could remember vividly was the sound of a gunshot, a warm surface pressing against her cheek and a strong thumping sound under her ear. She hums in contempt when the thumping sound becomes more clearer in her memories.

Hana stirs awake as she feels her arm limp against her, the throb making her wince and Hanzo jumps at the sudden sound.

“Hanzo? You’re awake!” Hana exclaims a bit groggily, but her smile lits up her face.

Satya stirs awake as well when she heard Hana’s exclamation. She unfolds her legs from under her and stretches her arms up above her head and twists her upper body.

“It’s good to see you awake, my friend.” Satya climbs onto the bed on the other side and Hana sits up, leaning herself on the headboard. She runs her fingers in Hanzo’s hair and Hanzo silently purrs at the contact.

“I’m pretty sure everyone’s worried about you right now.” Hana sighs out, her fingers gentle against her friend’s scalp.

“Especially that cowboy.” Satya points out, trying to lure out any reaction from Hanzo.

And she got just that.

Hanzo’s eyes widen at the sudden mention of the cowboy. His deep soothing voice in her head calming her from an unknown fear.

“H-He’s worried?” She asks, voice choking a bit. Her brows furrow a bit. Not believeing for a second that McCree would feel any sort of feeling for her.

“Very. You should’ve seen him when he came to get you.” Hana sighs dreamily, her unofficial uncle is such a besotted fool.

“How did he react?” She asks timidly. Her eyes on the sheets she has a death grip on.

 “He bursts out of the van the moment he calls you a bitch.” Hana deadpans.

_Flashback_

_“Ooohh, a prissy little bitch, aren’t you?”_

_The moment the words left his lips, McCree grabs his revolver and tores out the van like a bat out of Hell. His teeth bared in an animalistic way and he shoots the valor when he tried to stop him. The loud gunshot alerted everyone in the ball room. But he doesn’t care if they heard him. In fact he’s glad they heard him, otherwise he would’ve shot any motherfucker trying to stop him._

_He forgoes the elevator and takes the stairs instead, wanting to build up the rage he felt inside his being. He wanted to get to her as soon as puts his filthy hands on her. He saw the way her eyes widen with the fear even as they disappear as soon as they show. But Tracer and Angela told him to wait, the good doctor almost restraining him. He knows that Hanzo is confident in every way, and he knows that she could beat this fucker, but the nagging voice inside of him told him to be prepared. He’s sure glad that he listened to his gut._

_He took the steps two at a time, nearly reaching his destination, his lungs trying their hardest to catch in more air and legs feel like falling off, but the thought that Hanzo is waiting for someone to rescue her keeps him going._

_He knew this kind of shit would happen!_

_He knew he should’ve kept pestering her to bail from the mission!_

_He_ has _to get to her soon!_

_He bursts through the door of the floor she’s on and listens to any sound of distress coming from any of the rooms. He hears the clatters of objects being thrown around and tries to pinpoint which room the noise is coming from._

_He races around  and desperately tries not to barge into every room in his panic. The noises stop and he listens around again, praying to any lord that’s listening to give any sort of sign. His tears threatening to spill any second. The deafening silence about to damn near tear him apart when a loud scream echos the empty hall. The scream came about five doors away from where he’s standing._

_He sprints when he finally commands his legs to move and sprints. He skids to a stop and when he’s sure that it’s the bastard’s voice he’s hearing on the other side of the door, he body slams it to break in. His head only repeating the words, “Got to save her! Got to save her! Got to save HER!”When the door finally breaks down he enters quickly and scans the empty room._

_He hears the mumble voice behind the closed door of a room and he distinctively hears quite sobbing. His lips contorted in an ugly snarl, gums and teeth bared and he kicks the door open, making it hit the wall on the other side of the room.  When he walks in, he was ready to rip the bastard’s throat out, with his teeth. Hanzo was tied to the bedframe and her face bruised and her body exposed to the world._

_Everything was a blur when he finally has the son of a bitch in his reach._

_End of Flashback._

“And then he shot the man through his thigh and he didn’t let Angela treat or come near you.” Satya ends the story there and Hanzo is propped up on the bedframe with Hana holding Hanzo’s hand. She could feel the slight tremors running through her arm and Hana wraps an arm around Hanzo’s shoulder.

“We didn’t have time to dispose the one body he killed because we were in a hurry. His fury drove him blind to almost anything.” Satya comments, she reaches to Hanzo and places a hand on the dragon on her wrist.

“Where is he now?”

“He’s helping Winston with the interrogation.” Hanzo gasps a little, knowing what an angry McCree would do to the other man. That man may deserve death, but him being dead doesn’t provide them with any answer!

“I-I have to get to him. He could kill the man in his fury! You have to help me get to him!” Hanzo pleads.

“But, McCree ordered not to move you if you’re awake.”Hana replies.

Hanzo would deny to them for what she’s about to do, and she will take it to the grave.

“Please, I-I _need_ to get to him.”She makes her most pitiful face, her brows creased and her bottom lip jutting out in a small pout and she looks up at Hana under her dark lashes. Her voice vulnerable and raw with emotion. Her pleads gets to them and they each help support Hanzo on their shoulders.

She holds in her wince and hisses of pain as her legs are slightly dragged on the floor. Her petite frame made it easier for them to support her. Just when they near the entrance to the interrogation room, the door swings open to reveal McCree whipping blood from his fists. Even the prosthetic one is covered in the red liquid. He looks up from his ministration and sees Hanzo out of bed with two of her closes friends, their eyes wide with panic. He nearly sucks in his entire cigarillo when he attempts to gasp in surprise.

“Satya! Hana! I thought I told you not to bring ‘er here!” His voice rose with each syllable. He strode towards them in five big steps and throws away the bloody rag on the floor carelessly.

“Y’re gonna hurt y’re damn ankles if they keep hangin’ off like that.” He gruffs out, his flesh arm instantly going behind her knees and his prosthetic keeps a strong hold on her back. Instantly she was lifted and her arms automatically wrap around his broad shoulders. Her high pitched yelp making her blush deep red.

She regains her composure and sends a glare to the hispanic man.

“I just wanted to know whether you’ve killed our man yet or not! Don’t direct your anger towards them.” She growls threateningly as her eyes narrow at him.

He huffs out a snort and roll his eyes in annoyance. “In case ya haven’t notice, princess, I ain’t dumb enough to kill our first lead. Not yet exactly.” He mumbles the last part under his breath.

A throat cleared making them jump and turn back to the other two ladies in the hall. Satya raises a brow when she sees the hold McCree has on Hanzo tightens. Likely not wanting them to take her away from him.

“I’m just gonna take ‘er to ‘er room. Ya’ll better get somethin’ ta eat, ‘specially you, Satya.”His gaze turns to her and she merely waves off his concern.

“We’ll leave her well being in your capable hands, McCree.” Hana was about to retort that they can take her to her room, but Satya grabs her arm and drags her away from the two.

Hanzo and McCree stood there in silence. The atmosphere awkward and tense. McCree cleared his throat and decided it was time for Hanzo to rest some more. He carries her back to her room in complete silence, his gaze forward and not even a glance at her. She mentally pouts at how stoic he’s being. But she suppose that she herself not knowing what, maybe not even wanting to engage in a civil conversation, to talk about contributes in the awkward silence as well.

They arrive at her room and he gently kicks the half open door further. He walks in and gently places her on the bed. She still wore his big plaid button up shirt, but she couldn’t find it in her heart to take off the garment that strongly has his scent. He seems to contemplate on something before he makes a decision to go to the bathroom.

She hears water running, probably filling up a tub. He walks back in with a bowl and a soaked face towel. He makes his way to her.

“I’m gonna clean of them make-up off yer face. Sorry if I put pressure too hard.” He mumbles quietly. He wrings the towel and brings it to her face.

She lets him. Because she wants to feel his gentle hands on her. Her pride be damned. He saved her, and she wants the memories of that sick man’s hands off her skin as soon as possible.

McCree gently dabs the mascara that ran down her cheeks and he wipes the blush and concealers off her cheeks. When he got to her lips, he uses his thumb to swipe the fading red off her puckered lips. She closes her eyes at the sensation of his gentle finger and sighs in contempt.

McCree stays blessedly silent in his ministrations. He then places the wet towel in the bowl and leans close to her, his hand going behind her head and pulls a pin holding her hair up off. Her hair cascades down her back like dark satin and some strands falls infront of her face, covering her right eye. He brushes them behind her ear and with little hesitation, places his hand on her cheek.

He hears a soft purr and if things went his way, his lips would’ve kissed every bruise on her body. But he holds back. That’s not what she needs right now.

“I made yer bath, let’s get you all cleaned up.” He gruffs out, removing his palm from her cheek rather quickly and she deflates.

What was she hoping? For him to kiss her?

Yes.

“Come on, up you go.” He lifts her effortlessly. She crosses her arms on her chest, the action cause her shoulders to throb painfully and she hisses in discomfort.

“I can get to the bath myself, McCree.” She bites.

“And I don’t trust ya enough not to stumble and fall on yer ass, Princess.” He says mockingly. His annoyance evident in his tone.

“Well I can assure you that I’ve been through worse than this.” She snarls. How dare he thinks that she’s incapable of taking care of herself when she could beat this man into a pulp without breaking a sweat!

“And I just want you to give me a chance to help ya! I ain’t gonna let ya get yerself hurt trying to use the toilet!” He growls, his fingers on her bruising her shoulder.

“I’m not going to hurt myself, you ignorant buffon!” She snarls, wiggling her body to free it from his arms.

“FOR GOD’S SAKES! JUST SHUT UP AND LET ME DO THIS FOR YOU!” He bellows. His cigarillo already gone, if it was still between his lips, the smoke coming out from his nostrils would’ve made him look terrifying.

The slap came like a lightning strike on him. His face turned the other way and he hears her gasps and sniffles. When he looks back at her, her eyes were wide and shinning with unshed tears. Her lips trembling in unidentified fear and the hand that she used to slap him trembles violently.

His jaw clenches dangerously and she waits for him to drop her into the tub.

But he didn’t.

He gently sets her on the toilet lid and takes off the clothes on her.

“Don’t.” He ignores her and pries the clenched fabric from her fists.

“There’s nothin’ under there that I haven’t seen.” He gruffs out.

He removes them and her undergarments. The bruises are purple on her pink, pale skin. He growls in his throat and picks her up again. He walks to the tub and climbs in with her. Shirt and all minus his boots.

“Y-you can leave.” She chokes out, her throat feeling like sandpaper.

“Shut up.” His breath tickles the nape of her neck and he begins scrubbing her skin. Dragging the sponge up and down her arms. He hands her another sponge and she cleans her legs. Scrubbing at the bruises gently and when she looks at her thighs, she could see the fingerprints there. She chokes on a whimper and leans her forehead on her knees. Her shoulders shaking and her cries quiet.

McCree leans in behind her and places his forehead on her shoulder blades. His arms coming around to wrap her trembling figure and holds her as she weeps.


	4. Chapter 4

When he felt her starting to go limp in the cold water, he finally decides it’s time for bed. He gently picks her up and carries her to bed. The trial of water soaked into the carpet and he removes his shirt and makes his way into the bathroom. He wraps his waist with a slightly damp towel when he removes his jeans and boxers, his hair wet as he combed it back with his fingers. He grabs another towel and makes his way to Hanzo.

 

She’s already asleep, obviously expecting McCree to wipe her dry. Sometimes he’s amaze with the amount of trust she showed him. At times a bit overprotective when she’s vulnerable when she shares tidbits of her previous life to him when she thinks he’s asleep. Genji was the one that stuck to her like a shadow when she first showed up in Overwatch. He would always try his best to be in the same mission roster with her, he’s also the one that urges the rest to befriend her.

 

Satya had an easy time making her open up, because she is literally mute around everyone else. They made it off like sisters before Hana squeezed herself between them. At first he wasn’t rude or scathing around her, Ana would have his ass if word ever spreads that Jesse McCree is rude to a woman. But he never tried to make a reach for her, so she leaves him alone.

 

But when they’re partnered up in a mission he tries his best to make himself likeable around her. Commenting on her skills with a bow, her preferences in alcohol, but she never so much as gives him a glance. Not even one of her famous glare was directed to him.

 

He doesn’t even know whether his gestures of friendships ever reached to her, so he doesn’t try to extend that hand of friendship again. Besides, there’re a lot of cats in the local town where he can enjoy himself. They’ve always been enough for him, but his chest aches when he sees some of them posses an asian characteristic to them. Like high, delicate cheekbones or sharp, dangerous eyes. His chest would ache when their eyes wouldn’t look at him with undertone of danger and a warning that the woman back at base posses. They didn’t have that asian tilt in their accent either; all of them possessing perfect English.

 

And just when he thought that he hit the jackpot, he would demand them to stop and he leaves. He couldn’t.

 

His heart wouldn’t let him.

 

He shakes his head from these thoughts and continues with the task at hand. He delicately turns her face towards him and smirks when a soft snore escapes her. He wipes her flawless throat first and generally moves downward rather slowly. The drops of water glistening in the room’s light, making her skin seem to glitter mischievously. He towels her shoulders and breasts, careful around them because he’s sure he could see ten faint bruises there. His blood boiling and his stomach churn at the thought of her being handled roughly without her consent. His jaw grits and he could feel a vein pop on his forehead, angry at her, angry at the man that did this to her...angry at himself because he wasn’t fast enough. But he knew that acting out on his anger would get them nowhere. He breathes through his nostrils to calm himself down. His chest expanding with the large amount of air he’s breathing in and deflates slowly when he feels like he’s not about to bash a certain someone’s skull.

 

He continues to wipe her down and every bruise that he sees and passes makes him feel even more like a failure.

 

He wasn’t fast enough. He couldn’t get to her fast enough. She was hurt because he couldn’t get to her fast enough.

 

And when he was wiping down her legs his resolve crumbles. He lets the tears gathering in his eyes fall. His chocked sobs quite and he hides his face in his hands. His shoulders shaking from keeping his screams of frustrations in, but he knows he has to be strong for her. She can’t see him so broken like this.

 

With one final deep breath, he gets up and rummages in her duffel bag for her clothes. He triumphantly finds a large blue hoodie and a pair of yoga pants. He won’t lie to himself and say that he’s embarrassed to pick out her undergarments, considering how many undergarments he had to take off of various women.

 

He makes his way to her and gently picks her up her upper body first and slides a sports bra on her, because he doesn’t know how to strap on a bra without it being too tight. He doesn’t want her to have difficulty in breathing while sleeping. He slowly slides on her panties; he snickers quietly to see that she packed a pair with what seems to have a tiny horse shoe sewn on it. He dress her other clothing as well and she suddenly snuggles onto his arm.

 

He then remembered that she likes to cuddle after sex, the information stored in his mind for reasons he doesn’t know.

 

Her cheek is smushed on his forearm and her breathing calm and slow. He tries to pull back, but that seems to make her dig in her blunt fingernails in and he hisses into his prosthetic hand.

 

He doesn’t want to wake her up, she needs the sleep after the breakdown in the bathroom. He doesn’t want her to wake up with an almost naked McCree next to her, not like that hasn’t happened before, but this is different. After narrowly escaping an attempted rape, sleeping next to a man so soon after it sounds like a bad idea. He mentally shrugs and goes for it. He scoots into the bed with her and she instantly wraps her arms around his chest and snuggles into his hairy torso. Her legs were thrown over his waist and a purr escapes her lips. 

 

He sighs, _might as well enjoy this while it lasts._ Because he knows after this, she wouldn’t want to be near him anymore.

He buries his nose in her damp hair and breathes in the cheap strawberry shampoo that he used to wash her hair. His eyes droopy and suddenly his muscles go lax under her touch and he stifles an upcoming yawn.

 

He closes his eyes and promptly fell asleep.

 

OOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO

 

Satya observes Angela as she tries to put the man to sleep; he’s been thrashing about his leg after he had woken up from McCree’s bashing. He started screaming an hour after McCree left, screaming about lawyers and seeming to claw his leg back together, but they all know it’s a lost cause. They didn’t try to stop McCree, knowing that his fist might end up on someone he cares about and then he’ll beat himself up by having a bit of a mental breakdown. It wasn’t pretty.

 

She leaves when the man falls into a forced sleep, the drugs kicking in faster than she anticipated, but she knows that Angela knows what she’s doing. She wouldn’t kill the man yet. Satya rubs her stomach to calm it down when the smell of blood wafts into her nose, making her almost running to the closest bin.

 

She makes her way towards the spacious reading room with a fireplace. She sees Hana curled up in a cozy ottoman and playing on a laptop she brought along.

 

Satya ignores her silent screaming and picks up a book on the giant shelf. She makes her way over to the fireplace and sits down on an armchair a few feet away from Hana.

 

“Hey Satya?” She pipes up, her concentration still on the laptop on her lap.

 

“Yes?” She also didn’t look up from her book.

 

“How did Rat take the news?”

 

Suddenly the atmosphere became tense. Hana could actually _feel_ the tension permitting in the air.

 

When Satya stayed quiet for a period of time, Hana got her answer.

 

“You didn’t tell him scat, did you?” She deadpans and fist pumps in the air, seems like she won something.

 

A sighs escapes the Indian, “No.”

 

“He’s going to have to know sooner or later.”

 

“I know.”

 

“Can I...?”

 

“I’ll think about it.” She concludes and Hana seems happy about it, then she focuses back at the game.

 

Satya suddenly feels like reality finally sets in her system, because she stopped focusing on the book to look at the fire dancing in the fireplace. Her future still a bit unsure, but she’s also anticipating it. As though the fear has run itself dry back at base and she felt like she forgot to pack her view of reality as well of what’s to happen if she tells him.

 

She shrugs, she’ll let future Satya handle the upcoming anxiety later, and with that she continues reading her book.

 

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

 

“Hey, Winston?” Lena calls softly, sitting by the window in her comfortable white shirt and pyjama bottoms.

 

“Yes?” He doesn’t look up from the pad in front of him as he arranges one file then move to the next. Separating the evidences to pinpoint this and that, things Lena doesn’t give much thought and things that Winston will take days to explain to her.

 

“D’you think I should take French?” The question is rather random, but he’s use to her peculiar questions.

 

“It all goes down to whether you’re patient enough to learn the whole thing, my dear.” He replies, attention still on the tablet infront of him.

 

“Why would you want to take French?”

 

“No reason. It’s just a thought that hopped pass. I don’t think I’ll pester about it for long anyways.”

 

“Do you need me to prepare some frog legs cuisine for you?” He jests.

 

She throws her slipper to him and he ducks.

 

ooooOOOOooooOOOOoooo

 

Hanzo slowly opens her eyes, her front burning like a furnace and she stretches languidly. Her back popping and she lets out a satisfied sigh. She looks next to her and sees McCree snoring. She sits up but then realizes that he has his arm wrapped around her waist. His grip on her comfortably tight and it seems that she’s trapped him into sleeping in the same bed with her.

 

She doesn’t blame him, she knew that she wouldn’t want to let him out of her sight yet. Her subconscious must’ve taken control of the situation when her pride wouldn’t let her.

She looks at his relaxed, handsome face and gently runs her fingers in his whiskers. They tickle the tips of her fingers and she smiles when he seems to chase after her hand.

 

She always knew that McCree was a simple man, of simple characteristics, but never had she thought of him as short-tempered and silver-tongued. Her brother had said that the man is rather easy to befriend and easy to open up to in nature, and that’s what made her afraid of him.

 

The thought alone made her rather distant and cold towards him, she doesn’t care that he’s distant towards her as well, but the way that he’s so open towards anyone else makes a burning pain in her chest increase. She envies the brotherly like friendship Genji and McCree shared.

 

She wants to, oh how she wants to just act so open to him. She knew that there is no reason for her to fear him, but the thought of just talking to him makes her stomach jump and flutter and she hates the feeling. She hates that her sharp mind suddenly turns to mush when he even looks at her direction. Never once had she had to deal with these pathetic feelings, she never knew what she had to do when something so unfamiliar is present to her. Usually she acts indifferent and uncaring, but this feeling just burns and digs its way into her chest and it stays in there, growing every time he acknowledges her.

 

But she knew that she was nothing more to him than just another woman to sleep with.  She knew of his nightly rendezvous with the local hookers. She’s seen how persuasive and easy it is for him to capture a woman’s attention and time, it made her resolve in not getting herself involve with the man and his talent for words increase tenfold.

 

But when he came to her that first night, not a single word was uttered to her, just his burning gaze, dark with lust and her aching desire burning deep in her belly. At that moment she cared nothing but his hands on her body and his lips on hers. She realized that he was gentle with his rough hands. His kisses soft and eyes asking for permission. Not straightforward or demanding like she thought she knew he was. He doesn’t persuade her to sleep with him, he didn’t use whispered nothings to her, he didn’t twist any of her words.

 

His eyes convey everything that needed to know.

 

But she didn’t know that she’s blind enough to see the truth of it all.

 

Hanzo tucks her head under his chin and he grunts but didn’t wake. She closes her eyes and lets sleep sneaks up to her and pulls her into a dreamless slumber.


	5. Chapter 5

When Hanzo woke up again, it was to an empty bed next to her. The sheets were cold, indicating that McCree must’ve gotten up earlier. She sighs with a pang of disappointment in her chest but she shakes it off. He’s not obligated to care for her if he so wishes to. Being as damaged as she is right now must be too much for him. She manages to sit up on the headboard and stretches her arms as far as they can, cracking her back as she twists her upper torso. She was about to call at least one of the others when her door creaks open.

The smell of smoke reaches her first before the other gets the chance to enter the room and she sees McCree standing there looking rather sheepish. He’s wearing a rather plain black t-shirt, his hair combed back, his beard seemed to be groomed as well, which if someone asks Hanzo, that that’s a rare thing to see.

 _Maybe he does that all the time?_ She ponders, he probably does it when she’s not around to see it. He looks clean and refreshed, something which she also rarely see. It just goes to show how much effort she put in avoiding him in the same building they reside in. She’s only ever seen him tired, angry, irritated, or sweaty.

Sometimes she would get the rare treat where he’s lounging with her brother, laughing with Tracer and Angela, playing Evil Within with Hana or working out with Zarya. Sometimes she gets to see him smile, laugh, being goofy…just generally happy. She wonders from time to time how that must feel to have his smile or his rumoured funny and quirky jokes are directed to her. Even Satya says that he’s good company when he’s not being loud or boisterous.

She wonders…

“Hey.” He calls softly. His eyes seeming to avoid her as she looks up to him. Surprised that he really is here.

He seems to be contemplating something as he kicks the fuzzy carpet lightly. “Angela wants ya to get somethin’ ta eat first before she checks ya over, and I know that ya hate eating in bed, ya told me once.” He quickly adds as her eyes narrow at him.

“So, I kinda volunteered ta carry ya to the kitchen, since we don’ have any wheelchairs.” His cheeks seem to be warming up and he eyed the slightly peeled wallpaper in the room.

She wants to say that at this point she doesn’t care that she has to eat in bed! She doesn’t need his help! She doesn’t want him to be anywhere near her anymore. But…

“Okay.” Was what came out from her lips.

McCree seemed surprise with that and he seems to fluster a bit and scratches the back of his neck lightly. A nervous gesture when she’s seen him do too many times when he’s embarrassed. Over what, she doesn’t know.

He sucks in a deep breath and walks over to her, his eyes finally meeting hers head on. Something akin to determination burning in them. He kneels next to the bed and holds out his arms. She automatically leans in and wraps her arms around his neck. Genji had done the same thing to her when she was bedridden. He would carry her to the bathroom, not washing her though, carried her to the gardens, the koi pond where he loyally sits next to her and combs her hair and later braiding it. He’s probably going to glue himself next to her when they get back to base.

McCree hooks his arm behind her knees and his mechanical around her waist. He slowly stands, trying not to jostle her too roughly. He begins walking out the room and down the hallway. Her soft breathing tickling his neck and her arms are slightly tight around him.

He’s mostly quite carrying her, probably not wanting to irritate her. As if he knows her too well to knowingly how to piss her off, she thinks viciously. All they’ve ever been doing is jab at each other or push buttons that’ll make them almost breathe out fire. She didn’t even had enough time to lick her wounds after they ‘broke-up’. The wound still deep and throbbing every time they interact. But this is a new kind of torture. Where his skin was usually warm under her touch. But now…

His skin is cold under her fingertips.

Something in the back of her mind whispering that he’s only doing this because he pities her. Because she is nothing more than an injured teammate that needs tended to. It’s better if they stayed a million miles apart.

 

OOOOooooOOOOooooOOOO

 

He could hear her thinking.

Her touch almost non-existent on him and her eyes distant, likely pretending that he’s someone else that’s carrying her. His ire rose, just what did he do in the length of ten minutes since he entered the room until now is unknown to him. He wanted so much to open his mouth and say something, but seeing her so vulnerable right now makes him shut his lips tight.

There’re some days where he just want to take her by the shoulders and just shake her roughly, to wake her up. To open her eyes…to _see_ him.

But he didn’t want to scare her. He believes that she’s already hates him more than he deserves. If he only gets the chance to tell her how much she meant to him.

He was partly blamed that she didn’t fit in the facility in the first few weeks. He wanted to hate her so much. For what she did to _her own brother,_ for following something artificial and fake and would take only moments to destroy to her brother. He wants to hate her because he knows that she thinks that he is way out of her league. He wants to hate her for how she would only look at him from her defiant eyes and raised chin. He thought it ridiculous when she does that considering how often he had to look down at her. He hates her forever bitching face, her scowl, her furrowed brow when she’s annoyed at how loud he’s being within her vicinity. He especially hates the void look she does most of the time.

But then, he notices how _human_ she is.

How she just embraces Genji when she thinks no else is looking. How she craves physical contact via Satya, Hana and occasionally Tracer. He sees how she loves it when someone just pets her long hair. He enjoys watching Genji cuddle next to her when she dozes off on the sofa in the rec room, she holds him rather protectively in her arms. He loves watching her when she has her guards down. Her smile easy around the very few she considered friends. The cute wrinkle she does when Genji gives her food she never tasted before.

But he hates seeing her this vulnerable. The unadulterated fear she shown when he came in a little too late.

If he could tell her. He could tell her how it wasn’t her fault. He wants to tell her how he loves seeing her pale pink lips smile. He wants to tell her that he could be the one that could be there when she needs some physical contact. He wants to tell her that his door is always opened for her.

He wants to tell her that he loves her.

But he knows it’s impossible.

He reaches the bottom of the stairs and makes a beeline to the kitchen and when he caught the scent of pancakes and sausages, he inwardly chuckles when he hears her sniffing the air rather enthusiastically.

“Ah, Hanzo, so nice to see you up and well rested, Dear.” Angela greets cheerily, she’s wearing a simple white apron. One hand on a Pan handle and the other, a spatula. Winston is already at the table, seeming to nurse a mug of steaming tea and Tracer next to him and reading over his shoulder on his data pad that he has in one of his large hand. Satya is next to a dozing Hana, her black satin hair in a neat bun and her eyes wide, seeming refreshed. Hana the exact opposite.

“Hanzo, how are you this morning?” Satya spoke up, her tone light and a bit cheery, she’ll investigate later. McCree sets her on an empty chair next to Satya, she smiles briefly at him in gratitude. Satya instantly runs her fingers in Hanzo’s hair to smooth out the knots and also because she knew Hanzo likes morning pets. McCree smiles sheepishly and goes to help Angela with breakfast.

“I’m rather well this morning.” She makes a slight purr when Satya lightly drags her nails on her scalp.

McCree puts a plate with a couple of pancakes and sausages for her and sets a fork next to it. He smiles when she catches his eye and she gives a timid smile back. She sees his blush and he quickly turns away to help Angela setting the plates infront of everyone. Angela gives her a glass of orange juice and Hanzo thanks her with a subtle nod.

It’s rare that Hanzo lets herself eat breakfast with them. Even when on missions, she usually packs protein bars as breakfast, lunch and dinner. Granted it’s a bit unhealthy, but she likes being ready to defend when she needs to.

She breathes in the meal and delicately uses the fork to cut a bit of the fluffy pancake and eats it.

“So, Hanzo, I thought after breakfast, we could do a little examination on your ankles and since we are not equipped with a wheelchair, we just hope that you can cope with us carrying you around for the time being. If that’s alright with you?” She smiles politely.

“I have no objections.” She answers quickly. Her mind more towards the food in front of her.

She hears McCree chocking on his coffee and Satya hides a giggle behind her hand. She knows that when Hanzo is hungry, almost everything is blocked in her surroundings.

She sips her orange juice slowly, the events happening before her is amusing.

Breakfast after that is a bit of a meagre affair after that. Winston and Tracer buried in an article or lead on their datapad.

Hana still trying to keep conscious, McCree obviously avoiding everyone’s eyes, but no one is actually staring at him. Satya enjoys the warm atmosphere in the kitchen as best she can. The sun beam shining into the spacious room and she soaks up the warmth. It feels like a familiar cares on her body from someone she misses back at base. Being away from him with this, not exactly a burden, but more like a precious cargo, makes her yearn for his presence. She loves how well she fits in his gangly form and how he tries to just lift her up from the floor almost all the time.

If only she could tell him.

Soon, she decides. Her smile warm and almost giddy behind the mug she holds up to her lips.

After breakfast is consumed and Hana looking to be more with the living, McCree stands up the instant Hanzo puts her fork down and her tea gone from her mug. He picks up her dishes, she almost protest that she can do it herself, but her lips snap shut as she remembers her throbbing ankles.

He smiles a bit sympathetically at her and continues to do the dishes.

When they see the opportunity, they pile in their dishes into the sink, a silent law that whoever is using the sink currently, they are to wash their dishes too. He groans when he realizes too late that he’s apparently fallen into a trap. Winston pats his back in thanks and the rest cheerfully leaves the kitchen.

Leaving Hanzo with McCree alone in the kitchen.

McCree tries to ignore the stare he feels behind him and continues on with the dishes. Humming a tune under his breathe.

_If I could tell her_

_Tell her everything I see_

He knows he’s not much of a vocalist, but he couldn’t help himself when he wants to fill in the silence.

_If I could tell her_

_How she's everything to me_

He knows the subtext of the song in his head means different, but he can’t help but apply some of the lines into the current situation he got himself in.

_But we're a million worlds apart_

_And I don't know how I would even start_

He could almost hear the music out loud in the room. The nervous thrumming of the guitar string feels like his thumping heart in his chest.

_If I could tell her_

_If I could tell her._

He finishes the dishes and wipes his hands on a tea towel draped next to the sink and when he turns around he see that Hanzo has her eyes close and her fair covering half her face and her chin on top her upturned hand, her elbow resting on the table. She seems content to listen him whistling and humming to an old, old song he once heard his friend play on his guitar. He’s probably gone now, but the song stuck to him even years after. He even searched endlessly for the song on the limited time on the net when he gets the chance.

He memorizes every melody and lyrics.

She’s lovely, basking in the early morning rays and her barely there smile on her lips. He really doesn’t want to break this pure picture of serenity, but he needs to get her to Angela. So he softly clears his throat.

Her calm reverie shatters startlingly and she looks up to see McCree staring at her. He smiles inquisitively, silently telling her that Angela is probably waiting and seems like the others just shoves the carrying duty to him.

“Oh.” Her cheeks lightly dusted in pink and she holds up her arms. No protesting, no biting comment and no death glares and threats.

So he, almost, happily bends down and slips her into his arms. He holds her close to his chest and starts for the mini-medical room Angela sets up in the second library. This mansion and apparently the former owners seem to enjoy reading so much.

Her arms wrap loosely around his neck and Hanzo could almost bask in the warm breath every time he exhales on the juncture of her shoulder and neck. She knows that she’s hurt them; breaking whatever the silent comfort she finds in him; and she hopes that he found comfort in her too. But she wants to reconcile and she knows that he won’t make the first move, so she has to initiates it from her side. First, by thanking him for rescuing her; and to apologize for slapping him.

She’s not being weak by doing this; she tells herself. And braces for the upcoming smug smiles after she’s said her piece.

“Thank you,” Her voice a mere whisper on his neck, “…for saving me. And I apologize for…slapping you.” She shyly prods her finger on his cheek.

He seems surprise at the quite apology and nods rather quickly, “No, problem, Draling.” He whispers back, his eyes on her when she looks up at him. No smug smile and eyes sincere and open.

“C-couldn’t let him hurt ya.” He mumbles, eyes going dark for only an instance and just looks at her. His voice croaking at the start is rather adorable for even how deep and grounded it sounds. He flashes her a shy smile, different from the grins and easy smirks he always flounders around. She rather likes this shy part of him.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I smuggled in there is "If I could tell her." From Evan Hansen the Play.


	6. Chapter 6

Jesse carries her all the way to Mercy’s room where she’s prepared with the necessary instruments to check up on her ankles. Hanzo knocks on the door and Mercy calls them in. She seems to be in the middle of cleaning her apparatus and they notice that she’s wiping her surgical bone saw, one glance at McCree shows that most of his color has drained from his face. His hold on her almost slacking and she hears a loud gulp next to her ear.

She’s seen apparatus like these before, even conducted a surgical removal of an arm once on an enemy of the clan once. So she doesn’t shudder in fear of it. But it seems that McCree has a bad past associated with the particular tool. But then she feels him clench his prosthetic arm tighter.

“Ah, Hanzo, good timing. I was just finishing cleaning up my appliances. Come, you can set her on the bed, Jesse.” She gestures to her bed and Jesse gently place her on it, and then he grabs the nearest chair and sits next to her by the bed.

“You’re staying?” She directs the question to the resident cowboy, one of her brow raised in scepticism.

“Well, yeah. I mean I’m sure Angie is strong but I jus’ wanna be a gentleman and carry her weight, you, when she’s finished.” He teases and Hanzo rolls her eyes skyward.

“Okay,” Angela cuts off her snarky reply and she brings out a portable x-ray and a plain light blue sheet. “Now Hanzo, I want you to lie down so I can scan both your ankles and please fold your pant legs up. Thank you.”

Jesse helps in bringing her legs up on the bed and setting them on the light blue sheet. Hanzo folds her pant legs up to her knees and she leans back on the bedframe. She closes her eyes and waits for Angela to finish her preparations.

“Alright, dear, I’m going to start the scan and I want you to stay still. Can’t believe with how far into the future we are and some medical tools aren’t even updated much. But I guess some are just already too…flawless to change anymore.” She sighs half-heartedly.

She starts the scan and Hanzo feels McCree resting his prosthetic next to her. Her arms are folded on her stomach, but she has this nagging feeling in the back of her head that’s she’s forgetting something but she only shakes it away.

“Okay, and we’re done. It’ll take a while for the scans to develop and you two just sit cosy there, okay?” She moves to a room in the back of the main room and leaving them completely at their own devices.

The quite wasn’t so bad and McCree doesn’t seem intent on starting any conversations and she’s fine with it. There wasn’t much to talk about, but she can’t keep lying to herself believing that everything that happened will be written off in history that easily. But she knows that McCree is not a man of commitment and to her, attachments are considered weak and a dangerous soft spot. An advantage any enemy can use against her, and she’s done with people using her and telling her what to do.

Just like how every kill supposedly brings her honour and redemption from what she’s done to her own brother. It doesn’t make her any stronger or ever proud of herself, it doesn’t make her guilt go away. It just makes her feel like no one can have control over her again.

“So, Hanzo…” McCree drawls lazily, apparently the quite doesn’t bode well with him.

“Yes, McCree?” She responds rather lazily.

“I uh…watched how ya fought off that bastard off of ya in the cam and I thought you were really scary when ya nearly bite off his head.” He phrases rather poorly and winces when he realizes how moronic he sounds like.

Hanzo hides her little laugh and smile behind her hand, but her shoulders shake with concealed mirth.

“I thought I was rather…behind with my flexibility and posture. I failed rather spectacularly, and nearly cost me my dignity.” Her voice is quite but he hears the bitter undertone that she hides whenever she’s angry with herself.

“Hey, everyone makes mistakes. I mean, look at me, I cost m’self an arm and I regret what I’ve done every day.” He replies morosely, his eyes to his mechanical arm and Hanzo couldn’t make herself understand how he feels.

Obviously what he’d done then is still haunting him to this day. He’s no different than her. She wouldn’t admit in a million years that she can compare herself to McCree, but she’s beginning to see the side that she recognises as her own.

“But I’m not supposed to make any mistakes. I’m not supposed to fail. I’m-“She’s abruptly cut off when she hears him give a loud snort.  She turns a glare to the man and he looks back at her rather aloof.

“You are human right?” He asks in mild disbelief and her glare intensifies.

“What I’m sayin’ is, to err is human, Darlin’. Ain’t nobody in this world is perfect. Those who do things perfectly are either because they have nothin’ left to loose or because they ain’t simply human any more than you and I.”

Hanzo’s eyes widen a fraction at his rare moments of wisdom he phrases. She at times wonder if being around him means that she could get to experience this side of McCree even more. In her eyes, he’s never seem to be the type to be taken seriously, disregarding the attire, but he’s never been the type to catch her attention for longer than necessary.

“Ya sometimes gotta remember that the whole world isn’t after ya, Han. Ya gotta let the ones you love in ta yer heart. It ain’t easy, I know. But who else are ya g’na turn to when the weight of the world is too heavy fer ya ta carry?” He glances over to her and sees that her eyes are casted to the sheets and her brows are creased over her eyes.

“You have someone back home that loves ya, Han.” And sometimes he wishes that he’s the one that he’s hinting.

“But my burden, is mine alone to carry. I do not wish to drag others down along with me.” She resolves tightly.

“So what? You plannin’ to drag yerself on the dirt and let your loved ones watch as you destroy yerself? That ain’t bein’ noble, that’s bein’ selfish.” He gruffs out, his eyes angry with a hint of disgust as he glares at her.

“Why are you suddenly so interested on how I carry myself?!” She snaps, her posture rigid and defensive.

“Because _I_ care!!!” He yells at her, his face turns towards her as she fights him with a glare of her own. But his declaration made her draw back a little in complete surprise.

She couldn’t understand. Why would he care for someone he hated and despise for the things she’s done to her own brother. A traitor, to her eyes. She would’ve hated someone like herself too. But this man, a man that puts family on a high pedestal, would care about someone who would kill their own just because they’re not following the rules of the game.

But she could understand if he tells her, so she asks with a slight tremble in her voice and her eyes vulnerable, “Why? I-I don’t understand…Why would you care?” She whispers.

McCree’s face softens at how doleful she looked, her eyes a little lost and desperate for someone to just _see_ her, for what she is. But he couldn’t. Couldn’t put her in a position that she wouldn’t understand, so he diverts, even if it hurts him, “Because…Genji just wants what’s best for you. And I don’t want to see him in pain because he lost you again. I ain’t g’na go over that again. I kno’ what it’s like to lose family, I just wish that he doesn’t have to go through it a second time.” He finalizes and pulls away from her face, leaning back onto the chair and crossing his arms over his chest.

At that moment, never has Hanzo wants to scream and cry at the frustration of the situation. So much that she wants him to tell her that _he cares_ for _her_! Wants to tell him that she can be there for him too. She masks the defeat in her eyes with ease and she leans back on the bedframe, her shoulders slump in exhaustion. The tears she feels building up behind her eyelids as she closes her eyes and accepts the fact that apparently, he cares for Genji’s wellbeing more than he does for her. She should’ve known that his strong devotion to care is for someone that’s definitely _not_ her. It’s for someone that has a connection to her that he cares for. She doesn’t understand why her chest constricts in a phantom pain that feels like it’s eating her alive. But she understands what betrayal feels like now, she’s never one for relationships, but even during her vigilante days when she’s constantly on the run, there’ll always be someone that catches her interest and heart.

But one too many times they showed just how far she is to reach them, figuratively. She can fake her identity, she can fake innocence, but she can’t fake what she feels in her heart. Too many times has she place herself in such vulnerable positions, only to see her heart be broken to pieces. And she’s been celibate for almost five years now. Until those nights she spent with him.

The door where Angela left in opens and she steps out with the x-ray results in her hand. She smiles up at them like nothing ever happened and walks towards the pair.

“Alright, Hanzo, I noticed that there are ligaments damaged and diagnosed with bimalleolar fracture, it’s when both the tibia and fibula are broken. I’ll prescribe you with pain relief and I need to place castings around your ankles, and since we don’t have an available wheelchair and McCree has agreed to assist you, I still want to remind you that you are not to put any weight on your ankles.” She reminds gently and hands Hanzo a small bottle of the medicine.

It took careful and gently hands to place the castings on Hanzo’s ankles. And when that’s finished, Hanzo wants to spend some time with Satya. She doesn’t want to spend another second with the man.

Their journey is rather quiet and both are determined to not look at each other in the eye. Hanzo didn’t wrap her arms around McCree couldn’t help but feel guilty for inflicting unnecessary pain on her. When they got to the room, Hanzo timidly knocks on the door and Satya answers it, her hair in a tight pony tail and a towel around her neck, clearly freshly out of the shower.

“Hanzo, dear, come in. I was just about to watch a movie. Thank you for bringing her here, McCree, I can carry her from here.” She holds up her arms and McCree only shakes his head.

“Nah, ma’am, I can carry her over to the bed, y’all don’t need to worry about it.” He smiles rather politely and proceeds to carry her to the bed and gently place her on it like she’s made out of glass.

“If uh, if ya need anythin’ just holler, and I’ll come get ya.” He receives a small nod from her and his shoulders slump a bit in defeat.

He walks back to Satya and nods at her and gently closes the door when he leaves.

Satya turns back to Hanzo and sees her lying down with her face buried under a pillow. Satya sighs a little and climbs onto the bed behind her. She sits with her left knee touching her back and her hand runs through her hair. Hanzo pulls the pillow away from her face and she turns and nuzzles in the other woman’s chest. Satya continues to run her fingers through her hair and she nuzzles her nose on her head.

“Would you like to watch a movie to quiet whatever it is in your mind?”

She receives a timid nod and Satya conjures up a screen, a movie already at the beginning before she interrupted.

“It’s an old story about a man that married a woman he didn’t want, but certain circumstances happened and he’s trying to find a way to fix it and save his wife.” She explains softly to the Asian and Hanzo looks back up at her in confusion.

“Why would he want to save her? Guilt?” She asks, her voice thick with emotion but Satya ignored it for her sake.

“Because eventually, he fell in love with her.” She finishes with a mysterious smile and a glint in her eyes.

“I’m intrigued enough, let’s watch.” She finalizes.

They get cosy under the duvet that Satya packed with her, Hanzo snuggled next to her side and Satya wraps an arm around her shoulders.

They watch as the room starts to cool and the atmosphere starts to evolve only around them, the peace quieting the noise in Hanzo’s head and she watches the movie with rapt attention. She was at first a bit peeved at the main actor because he only want to marry a more modern woman, a supermodel. She automatically class him as the pathetic happy go lucky moron with apparently amazing dancing skills.

Then, his grandmother sets him up with this beautiful country girl with minimal English skill. She was full blown pissed when he so clearly despise her. He doesn’t deserve her.

Then a ghost starts to haunt them, the guy notices and his wife does a 180 change and he tries to get his wife back.

Her opinions about him changes as she could see him falling more and more in love with his wife. The ghost that possessed his wife wanted to be a star, but she killed herself because they rejected her. Now, with a new body and looks, she quickly becomes Bollywood’s favourite rising star. The prince of Bollywood is also falling for her, and Hanzo ridicules about how ridiculously handsome he is. Kind and protective of her. She feels her heart leapt in her chest whenever he looks at the camera, like he’s staring right at her soul. _God. He’s unrealistically pretty._ She gushes.

The movie nearly comes to an end with the ghost wanting to keep the wife and she nearly cries when the husband tries to get the ghost to give her back. But she passes out before anything happens.

When they got to the hospital, the wife is revealed to be pregnant and the prince of Bollywood lets her go. She might have a tiny crush on Rajiv, the Bollywood Prince.

She looks up when she hears Satya sniffle and wipes a tear away with a piece of napkin.

“I didn’t take you for a crier on such a movie.” She points out and chuckles when Satya playfully punches her shoulder.

“That Sonu Sood is too pretty it’s criminal.” She blows her nose on the napkin and throws it away in the bin next to the bed.

She revels in the comfort of her dear friend and she starts another movie. Hanzo watches along and at times asking for a napkin to wipe away the sweat in her eyes and her suddenly runny nose.

The troubles of earlier is forgotten and tucked away in the farthest corner of her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the suuuuuuper slow update. I wanted to post this earlier but I have too many other projects that needed to be finished and I swear that this story is not, and will not, be abandoned.

**Author's Note:**

> More Girl!Hanzo in the future!! I'll probably post a drawing of mine of how I picture Girl!Hanzo. But for now, stick with these.


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